


(if it all goes wrong) Darling Just Hold On

by Yellowtaffeta



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Action scenes for the win, Ateez Kingdom AU, Crowns are over rated, I watched Dona Eis Requiem too many times, M/M, Square enix called they'd like their copyright on overly pretty boys back, actual beautiful bird prince Seonghwa, sit on the throne instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellowtaffeta/pseuds/Yellowtaffeta
Summary: What do you want them to say when you're gone?
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	(if it all goes wrong) Darling Just Hold On

**Author's Note:**

> Are you excited for Kingdom? Cause I am :)  
> Now before anyone says anything: No bashing of Stray Kids or The Boyz is intended by this fic. I use them as antagonists because they are WORTH IT. Just as Ateez would be bitchen villains if this was a fic about one of them.  
> Shout out to my baes ariesspicy and EmiAysu for doing writing prompts with me. Can't believe we've kept it up for so long!

They were at the gates. Hongjoong could hear the clash of bodies against the city walls from the battlements. 

So maybe a few months of sitting on the throne was not long enough to have won over the people. Especially with the crown still out there being worn by some pompous idiot in a white coat. Seizing the throne had been a calculated gesture and still the right one as far as Hongjoong was concerned but it was true the crown was a more visible icon. Couldn’t lug a chair around with you everywhere for people to see. 

Still, this was fine, this was to be expected. 

Flicking the blood from his saber he rolled his shoulders, the heavy black fabric of his coat weighing him down, reminding him to strike with purpose, to raise his gun with intent. With a whistle a steel hook flew up over the ramparts, pulling back on it’s rope to clang into a crevice in the stone work and with a groan a ladder began lifting from the ground towards him. It made it about halfway into the air before with a lurch and a whistle the rope hauling it up cut free, whizzing into the smoke and fire beyond the walls. 

“Suck on that fuckers!” Beside him his foreword captain crowed, Wooyoung’s face split into a manic grin. Blood wiped across his chin as he cut a crossbow bolt right out of the sky. 

On the other side of  _ him _ San hummed. The next time a grappling hook flew towards the ramparts the thin man caught it, yanking the spiked end up so it wouldn’t hit the masonry and held on as the subsequent yank sent him flying out into mid air beyond the ramparts. Screams rang out from the red sea below them as San pulled his hands from his pockets, unleashing a hail of needles and noxious smoke into the crowd below. 

Hongjoong didn't stay to watch the rest. He knew at the apex of San’s flight Wooyoung would catch his partner. Throwing out his own whip to snap San out of the air and back over the battlements. Even as he watched the two work from the corner of his eye he had his musket reloaded, skatter rounds peppering into the bridge below as he braced it on his forearm. 

Little licks of fire lipped at his skin, the barrel protesting the number of rounds that had passed through it in the last few minutes even as he pulled it down to reload again. 

“Forward! Do not be swayed!” Some idiot in shining white cried from the seething mass of bodies below. He was standing at the back. Wasn’t it funny how those with the fancy words and the fancy clothes and the fancy CROWN always yelled from the back? 

“Press on my brothers and we will reveal the true king!” 

Hongjoong much preferred the honesty of a good blade in his hand, the ringing in his ears of a shot that had hit true. So they had killed for this throne and they would kill again to keep it. The crown was a lump of metal that could be melted down, reforged. If the sea and the dark and the salt on his skin had taught Hongjoong anything it was that the seat of power would remain forever. He would keep his throne, then maybe he would make his own crown of driftwood and ocean glass. 

He’d separate the man’s head from his neck, then they’d see about separating the hunk of metal from his head. 

Just then a rumbling on the bridge caught his attention, something long and dark being carried to the gates by a platoon in red. A battering ram. Cute. 

Grimly he leveled his reloaded musket across his forearm, ignoring the smoking tatters of his jacket that hissed at his skin he sent off several rounds into the red figures on either side. With a clang the buckshot ricochet off hastily pulled up shields. Damn. He bit his lip as he reloaded, forehead furrowing as the ram made its first impact at the gates, a dull thud shuddering through the air, sending shivers into his bones. From beside him he heard Wooyoung curse, saw San kick his feet up onto the ramparts in preparation to jump. Someone else beat them all to it. 

A black streak dove out of the sky and slammed into the shield wall like a hammer. Soldiers in red rained down into the moat with a cry and the battering ram lurched, slid, stilling halfway off the edge. On the bridge a lone figure in black unfolded in the smoldering ring of chaos and Hongjoong winced. Seonghwa stood alone amidst a sea of red and not for the first time Hongjoong missed Mingi. Without his first mate no one could get down there to help, not without opening the gates which Seonghwa had just risked his life to keep shut. 

For the first time in twelve hours his fingers shook as Hongjoong struggled to reload his gun. On the bridge Seonghwa was opening his wings, flapping ungainly at the low elevation. Hongjoong watched as his crew member, his crow, his PARTNER struggled to take off. 

And then there was the man with the spear. Hongjoong watched him advance even as his fingers got the last round into the barrel. Cracking it closed he took aim across his arm as the steel tip punched a hole in Seonghwa’s wing and he faltered. Taking aim Hongjoong zeroed in on the man, his messy red hair the only thing he could see and he wished desperately for more accurate rounds. 

Seonghwa faltered, dipped in his struggle to find lift. The man in red stumbled back, roling to grab one of the discarded shields as buckshot splattered the ground in front of him. Seonghwa rose on the updrafts from the fires littering the field, his assent ungainly and lopsided but there. Hongjoong grinned fiercely feeling blood fill his mouth from where he’d bitten through his lip. 

To the side the battering ram gave a groan, the bridge beneath it splintering as it tipped over the side due to some combination of Jongho’s strength and Wooyoung’s whip. 

And they were going to make it. They were going to survive the day. They were- 

Hongjoong’s breath stopped in his throat as he saw it. On the ground the man with the spear had realed his arm back, the tip of his weapon glinting in the blaze of the fires and Seonghwa was still ascending. He was almost level with the ramparts but he wasn’t there yet and- 

Hongjoong’s gun was empty and it clanged against the stone battlements as he threw it aside and drew his saber. From the bridge the spear darted into the air, flying like some sick twisted version of a bird towards his crow and Hongjoong slung his arm back with a hiss. 

His saber clanged into the shaft of the spear, loping it off just below the head and sending the tip spinning into the stonework with a clang just as Seonghwa rolled over the ramparts, collapsing to the ground in a pile of inky black feathers, red dripping from them like oil.

“Jongho get him out of here!” Hongjoong barked even as the burly cabin boy dipped, rolling a shoulder under Seognhwa’s limp feathers and slinging his crow’s limp body across his back. 

That was, they were alive. They were alive and Hongjoong was going to need a new sword not a new crow so they could fix this.

For one horrible moment everything had gone silent beyond the ramparts and still the noise of battle hadn’t returned in full force yet. The creak of a wooden door and boots on the stairs rang loud upon the air and Hongjoong bristled, planting his feet against whatever was coming. There was no time to reclaim his gun; Wooyoung and San at his back would have to be enough. 

It soon became clear his caution was unwarranted as Yeosang turned the corner, jogging up to them his face smeared with soot but still handsome in the harsh light. 

“Are we ready?” Hongjoong asked, accepting his musket back when San held it out. 

“Yes sir.” His navigator hummed, mouth twitching up making his face look far too playful for what was about to happen. But then again maybe Yeosang had the right of it Hongjoong thought as he felt a much meaner smile twist across his face. 

They deserved this. 

Wind blew ash up in plumes as he bared his teeth feeling blood seep from his lip. “Then let's do it!” He hissed and beside him he could feel San practically thrumming, coiled like a snake, could hear Wooyoung’s nasty laugh. 

“Of course my cap-my king.” Yeosang tittered giggling behind one dainty hand. They all followed the navigator as he picked his way to the edge of the gatehouse to overlook the bridge. From his pocket Yeosang pulled a crystal, dark black obsidian flecked with the deep green of the sea and the flickering red of flames. 

At the sight of them there went up a cry from those across the bridge. The man in white yelled frantically even as those in red began to regroup but it was too late. 

Raising the crystal high, Yeosang waited as the dark billowing clouds parted and shafts of meager sunlight lanced through the smoke in the air catching on the dark surface and lighting it up with green fire. It began to smoke in his hand, more darkness billowing out into the wreckage and for a moment Hongjoong felt the heat leach from the air. Then Yeosang flung the crystal onto the bridge, shattering it into millions of pieces as more black smoke coated the world like dark water. 

Dusting his hands, Yeosang stood down allowing Hongjoong to take his place at the head of the ramparts as dark shapes began to rise from the smoke wringing screams from their enemies. Across the battlefield the man in white faltered, black hands winding around his legs covering his coat as they pulled him down into the darkness. The last thing Hongjoong saw was the glint of light off the crown before it was dragged under like treasure by the tide. 

His lip curled and blood coated his teeth as he grinned. 

On the far side of the bridge the platoon in red was scrambling into a defensive formation. At the center the redheaded man shouted, directing the phalanx against the grasping black hands that ripped at their shields. Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. 

Reaching out to the standard flapping in the wind from the gates Hongjoong yanked his own black flag loose. Wrapping up the fabric around the haft he pulled his arm back and sent the whole thing streaking across the bridge to impale itself into the dirt at the man’s feet sending him stumbling back. 

Staring his enemy down from above Hongjoong spat the blood from his mouth. His opponent would need a new spear just as Hongjoong would need a new saber. Not that it would make a difference. Hongjoong was still going to kill him for hurting his crow but never let it be said he didn’t give the fucker a fighting chance. 

Turning away with a swish of his coat Hongjoong surrendered his position to his forward commanders. San and Wooyoung taking up posts on the ramparts like falcons eyeing the fields for prey. There were more important places to be. 

Clapping Yeosang on the shoulder Hongjoong brushed past his navigator. Holstering his gun at his back he stalked off the ramparts. 

The infirmary tent wasn’t far away. No point in moving it back from the frontlines until the walls were breached and if today was any indication that was the least of his worries. 

He missed Mingi like he’d miss one of his own limbs. 

“How is he?” He demanded without preamble, ducking under the flap of the tent. 

Instead of answering him Yunho pulled a face sweeping a hand to indicate the bed Seonghwa was splayed out across, immense black wings trailing feathers along the floor. Off-white bandages bound one close to the crow’s body, packed tight enough only the faint pink of blood seeped through at the edges. 

“He’s got a hole.” Yunho huffed dunking his hands in a bucket of bubbly water. “Had to cut away a few feathers, pinions are fine though.” Hongjoong nodded taking in the bent black feathers littering the floor, the bloody bandages and nasty looking pair of surgical scissors Yunho was drying on a rag. 

“Heard from him yet?” Hongjoong couldn’t help but ask because if anyone knew where Mingi was it would be Yunho. When his gunner just scowled Hongjoong decided not to press. 

“Dismissed. Go help with the clean up.” He said and Yunho grinned darkly. 

“Gladly.” He growled throwing the rag down with the scissors and striding out of the tent as if spending one more second surrounded by the smell of antiseptic and blood would kill him. Hongjoong sighed, at some point they’d need to get a real medic. 

More movement beside Seonghwa’s cot caught Hongjoong’s eye and belatedly he remembered Jongho as his cabin boy stood. “Think you can rig something on the gatehouse so they don’t pull that shit again?” He growled and Jongho’s eyes flashed. 

“Who do you think I am?” His cabin boy smiled arching a brow. Giving Hongjoong an exaggerated two fingered salute he spun, backing out of the tent. 

Hongjoong huffed at Jongho’s theatrics. The boy was far too much trouble. Good thing he was worth it. Hongjoong shuddered to think what he would come up with to inflict upon their attackers. Because they would be back. Today they had won the battle, not the war. They would be back as long as they clung to that crown and it’s whispered promise of power. 

Reaching out to run his fingers through fine dark hair Hongjoong allowed himself to feel the stab of panic in his gut now that he was alone. Only him and his crow and there wasn’t anything between them that Seonghwa didn’t already know. 

“Mmmumph.” His bird slurred, chirping at the touch, his voice croaking as he remembered how to make the sounds. Crows were so smart. His crow was so smart. Hongjoong grinned, carding his fingers through dark hair that was feather soft. Beside him the good wing stretched taking up the whole floor of the tent with an inky blackness that spilled across the ground in much more pleasing shapes than the smoke with it’s grasping hands had earlier. Feathers rustled, settling across him like a second coat and Hongjoong slid down to sit on the ground by Seonghwa’s side. 

“You’re going to give Jongho bad ideas.” His crow croaked and Hongjoong grinned feeling the pull at his lip. 

“If they stop people like you from getting even worse ideas then I don’t care.” He chuckled, digging his hand into the hair at Seonghwa’s nap and giving it a warning tug. 

“Hey beautiful, you good?” He hummed as his crow arched under his hand turning his face towards Hongjoong’s side of the bed. 

“Me? I’m fine. You on the other hand,” Seonghwa huffed and Hongjoong couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “Don’t you have a country to run?” He murmured, narrowing his eyes at his king. “Or did we lose? We better not have lost.” Seonghwa cocked a brow, the tilt of his head purely avian as his black eyes glittered. “I didn’t get stabbed just so we could lose.” He chuffed and Hongjoong held back on smacking him since he was hurt. 

“My favorite person is injured, the country can wait.” He growled wincing when Seonghwa experimentally tried to flex his wing and quickly gave up with a flinch. 

“I don’t think it works like that.” He murmured, settling back against the bed with a sigh. 

To cover up the reckless beating off his heart Hongjoong scowled. “I run the country, so it does.” He grumbled hand reaching down to entwine his fingers with Seonghwa’s, the sharp nip of talons digging into his skin grounding him to the here and now. 

For now it was his country. For now they were winning. For now they would just have to hold on. 


End file.
